


Letting Go Of Appearances

by solohux



Category: Crash Pad (2017), Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Stensland, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Also titled: Big Men Can Bottom Too, First Meetings, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 16:31:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14898053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solohux/pseuds/solohux
Summary: Clyde thinks he's a beta until he meets alpha Stensland for the first time and he's sent into heat.





	Letting Go Of Appearances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NailBunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NailBunny/gifts).



> for the gorgeous & super creative [@nailbunny85](http://nailbunny85.tumblr.com/r)! ❤️ 
> 
> I'm sorry that this took so long for me to write! I really hope you like it!

The moment that the scent changes in the air of the bar, Clyde _knows._

He’s in the middle of passing over an apple martini Sylvia, Jimmy’s lady, when the alcohol-infused air shifts so suddenly that Clyde drops the glass, the sound of its shattering making the entirety of the bar turn around and look in his direction. His senses are plunged into overdrive; everything is heightened.

A burning sensation ignites in the pit of his stomach, and Clyde has a funny feeling that he may not be _100%_ beta.

Sylvia grabs his hand and says something to him, as does Jimmy, but the piercing sound in his ears dampens their voices, and all other noises in his bar. All, except the footsteps of the alpha who’s just walked in the door, the source of the change in the bar’s scent. Clyde lifts his head up, glancing up to look past Jimmy and Sylvia to the approaching alpha, who’s seemingly surrounded by an orange glow. Only when his eyes adjust does Clyde realise that the glow is, in fact, the alpha’s bright hair colour.

The ginger hair atop his head is just the icing on the cake, Clyde thinks, gaping. Lithe, the alpha walks with an exaggerated swagger towards the bar—towards Clyde—a light blush on his pale cheeks, likely from the warm weather. He’s relatively young and looks nothing like any of the alphas that Clyde has seen in his life; _Jimmy_ is a prime example of an alpha. Strong, illogical intelligence and a charming yet arrogant aura that can make alphas and betas alike submit to him. But this man— _babyfaced—_ looking nothing like an alpha, but is, undoubtedly, the cause of the stirring in Clyde’s stomach.  

But before Clyde can utter a word to anyone, the perfect-looking alpha trips, landing face _down_ on the floor with a loud thud, though he’s up again before anyone has the chance to laugh.

“Clyde? Clyde! Hey, little brother, look at me,” Jimmy says, waving his hand in front of Clyde’s face, making him focus. “You a’right?”

“Uh. Yeah. I think so.”

But Clyde knows that everything is far from alright. The new alpha hops onto a seat at the bar, the other side of Jimmy, and fixes his askew jacket. Clyde watches his nimble fingers for a moment as though time slows down, only causing more of a heat to spread through his pelvis.

_Heat? No. No, it can’t be._ He’s a beta, isn’t he? Clyde never presented as an alpha or an omega; having never popped a knot or gone into heat, his family presumed that he’s a beta but now, as an unfamiliar warmth spreads through his stomach and legs, and a strangely wet sensation fills his hole, Clyde is quickly realising that everyone may have been wrong.

“Hey. Take it easy. Sit down before you fall down,” Jimmy begins to make his way around the bar but Clyde shakes his head.

“I’m good.” Clyde composes himself, ignoring the shakiness of his knees to walk towards the red-haired alpha, who’s fussing over his hair. Opening his mouth to speak, Clyde is just glad that a _squeak_ doesn’t come out instead of his words. “Evenin’.”

“If I give you $5, will you pretend you didn’t see me fall?”

_Irish._ Clyde inhales sharply.

“Folk be comin’ in here and trippin’ all the time,” Clyde replies, trying hard to steady his voice as he feels the heat rising inside of him. “It ain’t no big deal.”

“Most people don’t fall over three seconds after they’ve moved to a new town to start a new life,” the alpha says, huffing and resting his elbow on the bar, leaning his cheek against his hand. “Typical.”

“New life, huh. I thought I ain’t ever seen you around here before.” _‘I’d remember.’_

“Yeah,” the alpha says. “Too much shit gone on in my last town for me to stay there. I wanted a fresh start to get away from everyone but I run right into this bar and make a fool of myself in front of the pretty bartender—”

The alpha shuts his mouth quickly, blushing, looking downwards at his lap than at Clyde, but as his ginger hair falls into his face and he grins to himself before glancing back up, Clyde has already fallen.

They talk and drink for a short while, learning more about each other. Clyde learns that the alpha’s name is Stensland and that he’s been bullied because of his biology; not having the appearance of an alpha but trying _so_ hard to be one can cause irritation in some, Stensland explains. Clyde knows _all_ about trying to be something that he _isn’t,_ he thinks as he discreetly reaches to his crotch and gives his hardening cock a bit of a rub through his jeans, wanting to swipe all of the glasses off the bar and get Stensland to fuck him on top of it. He’s happy that Jimmy and Sylvia have already left, leaving Stensland and Clyde the only occupants of the bar, otherwise he’d have alphas from all angles touching him, relishing in the scent of an omega in heat, though he wonders why Stensland can’t smell it—

“Clyde? Hey, big boy, you don’t look so good,” Stensland waves his hand in front of Clyde’s face. “You wanna go outside and get some of that fresh, country air?”

“Ye-yeah,” Clyde nods, stumbling out from behind the bar to walk on wobbly legs towards the door, but _now,_ not having the luxury of the bar between him and the alpha means that Clyde is a lot closer to Stensland than he wants to be— _or does he want to **be** closer, still?_

With a groan and a long, slow blink, Clyde falls to his knees and wraps his arms around himself, finding that even the cool metal of his prosthesis against his skin doesn’t quell his warmth. And when Stensland puts his hands on Clyde’s upper arms, it’s as though the dam that was holding his true nature back is finally broken, and Clyde _feels_ the heat surge from within himself and his hole beginning to slick.

“Damn it,” Clyde mutters under his breath, looking up through his dark hair to see that Stensland is practically glowing.

“…Fuckin’ hell, Clyde,” Stensland says. “You’re an omega. _An omega!_ And you’re in _heat!_ God, you look like cotton candy right now.”

“Stens…Stensland,” Clyde grasps the front of Stensland’s shirt and pulls him agonisingly close. “Need…an alpha…”

“Right!” Stensland stands up and scuttles around for a few seconds, visibly panicking. “I’ll call your brother! You said he was an alpha, right?!”

Clyde groans, finding himself subconsciously bucking his hips forward as though being taken by an invisible cock. He finally collapses right to the ground and lies on his side, curling in on himself and panting heavily.

“No…no,” Clyde whispers. “Need you. _You._ Send me into heat when I first saw you. Please, _damn it_.”

Stensland stops his panicking then and turns back to look at Clyde with a worried and apprehensive expression on his face. His hands are trembling and his lips are dry, but Clyde can tell by Stensland’s eyes that his rut is growing nearer. Clyde reaches up towards him with his hand and whispers ‘ _please_. For a moment, Clyde sees the alpha emerge in Stensland’s expression; his gaze seems to darken and his teeth—seemingly a little sharper—dig into his bottom lip.

“No,” Stensland shakes his head, “I can’t, I’ve never been with an omega before, I don’t want to hurt you, Clyde.”

“You won’t, I promise,” Clyde says, whining between words. “Jus’ help me… _knot me.”_

Stensland squats down and takes hold of Clyde’s hand, reaching then to grasp his prosthesis, interlocking their fingers tightly.

“Okay,” Stensland nods, “I’m gonna…try to take care of you.”

Like the barriers of a dam have been broken down, Clyde sits up as though hypnotised, and the two kiss for the very first time. Clyde feels like his insides are set alight when their lips meet, burning with more desire than what his heat is making him feel, but overwhelmed by Stensland’s mere presence. He moans into the kiss, though not as loudly as Stensland does.

They make quick work of shedding their clothes, though Clyde notes that Stensland undresses a lot slower than he does, seemingly hesitant, but Clyde chooses not to comment. Stensland’s body is soft, _squishy,_ with lithe legs and a sprinkle of freckles all over his pale skin. Clyde is convinced that the gods & the heavens have looked into his dreams and gifted him the alpha of his fantasies.

Clyde lies back down on the hard floor of his bar, wearing nothing but his grey boxers, and beckons Stensland forward with a low him.

“I’m…gonna touch you now,” Stensland says, hand hovering over Clyde’s strong thigh.

“Do what you gotta,” Clyde breathes, taking hold of Stensland’s hand. “I want this.”

“I want this, too,” Stensland replies. “But I…I don’t _look_ like other alphas, Clyde. Shit, I’m not even as _big_ as you.” Stensland’s gaze drops down towards the bulge at the front of the omega’s underwear. “I fell— _fuckin’ literally_ —for you the moment I saw you but thought you were an alpha so none of it mattered. But now, I’ve got you right here and I’m being a cowards because I don’t look like what you _need._ I’m sorry—”

“Stop talkin’,” Clyde gasps. “I want _you,_ sweetheart. All of you. You triggered my heat—thought I was a beta—until I saw you. This wouldn’ta happened if it weren’t meant to be— _aghhh!_ ”

Clyde digs his heels into the ground and arches his back, feeling his hole release another load of slick to lubricate himself, and it catches him off guard, but suddenly there’s a soft hand cupping his cheek and warm breath on his cheek.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Stensland says, kissing him. “I’m here, for you.”

Clyde automatically lifts his ass up when he finds his underwear being pulled down to mid-thigh, and Stensland’s fingers slide over the slick crease of his ass. He’s scraping his teeth over the pale skin of Clyde’s ear, murmuring encouragement. It’s as though Stensland isn’t the shy alpha that Clyde met only hours ago but is more confident, now that he realises that _he_ was the trigger to Clyde’s very first heat.

And then, Stensland is pressing a finger to his rim and god, _fuck_ , it slides in to the first knuckle without hitch.

“I want to make you feel good,” Stensland murmurs, and Clyde tries to grunt out an affirmative noise, turns his head and presses his face into the floor, cool against the heat on his cheeks. “You’re so wet.”

Stensland sinks his finger in as deep as he can, wrist pressed up tight to the curve of Clyde’s ass. He can’t get a good angle, not in this position, and can’t do much more than slide the pad of his finger around his rim and it’s so good but not enough. Clyde whines needily, reaching out to find Stensland’s hand to have something to hold on to. By the tentative exploration that seems more nervous than deliberate, it becomes clear to Clyde that Stensland wasn’t lying when he said that he’s never been with an omega before.

“I think you should turn on your stomach.” And Clyde does, flips and spreads his legs as much as he can. Kicks his underwear down and off, lets it hang off of an ankle. And he blushes more as he thinks about what he’s doing, how he’s being such a _slut_. He’s slept with others before but nothing as eager as this. Stensland’s hands are back on his ass before he can raise his head. Instead of anything suave, or cute— _like an omega_ should—he thrusts his ass back at Stensland and gasps, “ _more! Goddamnit Stensland. More_.”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Stensland says, defensive. Just like an alpha, Clyde thinks. _Always_ protective: the man is more of an alpha than he realises. The thick finger keeps moving though, petulantly slow.

“You _won’t_ ,” Clyde complains. “I could die if you don’t. Ah _h_ , fuck, fuck, oh shit.” The angered words turns into whines, dropping his forehead back to the ground when Stensland pulls out and pushes back with two soft fingertips.

Stensland laughs, low and awkward. He moves to straddle one of Clyde’s thighs. The fabric of his boxers is worn and soft on the backs of his legs, tickling him. He concentrates on the way two fingers fills him up so much more nicely than one, how slick and wet he is.

“Please, fuck me, Stens, if you want to.” Jimmy has mentioned that politeness is Clyde’s downfall, and he only realises once he’s _said it_ that politeness isn’t a turn-on.

But to his dismay, Stensland makes a choked sound and it doesn’t sound like a rejection. “Of course I want to, _look at you_.” And like the complete sap he is he reaches to run a hand over Clyde’s face, rubbing at the warm blush of his cheek. “You’re so wet, I can’t imagine how you feel.”

“Then do it.”

It takes some more shuffling, their pile of clothes stuffed under Clyde’s hips, before Clyde is opening his legs, his hole slick and hot. He gets Stensland’s palms on his ass and, fuck, he’s spreading him. Stensland pauses, and Clyde’s hears him exhale in a nervous, shuddering breath.

“Come _on_ ,” Clyde beckons, and all of a sudden, there’s the thick blunt pressure of Stensland’s cock at his hole. He hisses, Stensland makes a whining noise that’s low in his throat—the gruff sound of an alpha in a rut.

“Oh, my god. Clyde, baby.” The dying animal noises continue—like a wounded bird. “You’re so tight I can’t -” his hips jerk to a stop, the head inside keeping him open and stretched.

“Yeah,” Clyde says faintly as he tries to fuck himself back onto Stensland’s dick, knees slipping on the sheets. “Just the tip? Give me all of it.”

Stensland chokes out what’s probably meant to be a laugh and puts his palms on Clyde’s lower back, pushing him down into the floor.

“You’ll take what I give you,” Stenland says in a low tone, and Clyde shivers.

Stensland gives him slow, shallow thrusts that move him just enough to get some friction on his cock, pre-come leaking onto the clothes beneath him. He doubts he’ll ever be able to get the scent of his heat out of his clothes but he’s much too distracted by the wet noises of Stensland’s cock pushing into him to care about his clothes, or the possible stains on the floor of his beloved bar. The feeling of the slick running down the insides of his thighs is too overwhelmingly _good._

He wants Stensland to come in him, _knot him_ completely. By the slow but steady pace Stensland has set, Clyde doubts that his heat will be satisfied with this _one_ fuck. Still, his palms are flat on the floor beside his heat, fingers gripping at the surface and feels his thghs shaking. He tries to speak, to urge the alpha to go faster, but all that comes out is a moan.

“I’ve got you, shhh,” Stensland murmurs as he gets his hand under Clyde’s belly to wrap around his cock and begin working him. “Oh, you’re so wet here, too. So wet for me. Just for me, I guess too.” Clyde feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest, toes curling painfully, as _one_ , **_two_** strokes and he comes, panting and wailing into the floor beneath him, trying not to buck Stensland off as his strong hips arch to chase the crest of his orgasm.

If he could turn his head to look at his beloved alpha, he’s sure he’d see Stensland red faced and rolling his eyes as he presses back into Clyde. Clyde giggles a little, light headed and happy, floating in ecstasy. He rolls his hips in a tease as Stensland fucks into him in measured, slow thrusts. Stensland’s nails catch on the skin of his hips in small pinpricks of pain and his hips still, hips flush to Clyde’s ass—and there’s the pop of his knot. It stretches Clyde more than he thought it was but it’s enough to make his orgasm rear its head again and he comes dry, bucking his hips wildly as Stensland fills him with his seed, wetter and hotter than his own slick.

Stensland collapses onto Clyde’s back then, and Clyde feels just how light the alpha is. Clyde can’t believe it—he feels so full, so _complete._

“Fuck. _Fuck_. Clyde. That was amazing.” Stensland’s voice is breathy, exhausted. He kisses the nape of Clyde’s neck before sliding his hand down Clyde’s arm to his fingers, grasping at the cold metal of his prosthesis. “ _High five.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! My tumblr is [@solohux](http://solohux.tumblr.com/r) ❤️


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